#12 Step

[unofficialchronicle]

Am I making the choices I want to make, or is habit making my choices for me? —Al Anon Daily Reader “Courage to Change,” p. 209.

[ableism]

When you call your sponsor and expect to be admonished and told you’re failing and fumbling and you’re gonna go die and he’s like “Nah you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be and doing everything you’re supposed to be doing. You’re fine. You’re a baby.”

[terracegallery]

Serenity Prayer...

I felt like this white iris was the perfect backdrop for The Serenity Prayer. Irises are my favorite flower! GET IT HERE.

[quesadillacorner]

Ryan Mitchell - "Ruin My Life" (Official Music Video)

[jc-lambert]

Psychic Minds, Sadomasochism & 12 Step Meeting Halls

To

Kimberlyaa65@hotmail.com

(who's email has already obviously been hacked & compromised)

Hello,

My name is J.C. Lambert. I've found a black book in the city of Witches written in the language of angels. The writer: was using the Roman phonetic system and is suspected of being afflicted with a case of humanity. It was dropped in the Delano District by a local kleptomaniac who's been working with identity thieves from Oregon/Washington. They've been working the local human syndicate in the 12 Step Meeting halls. Infact, he's the same person who stole my bag, and left me homeless in the streets of Wichita. They're the same grouping of psychosocial people who robbed me blind and kept me kidnapped and homeless in Portland Oregon.

Hi. I'm John. I'm kidnapped. I am carrying a nuclear arm. I've been prescribed cannibal byproduct. Thank god I'm familiar with the city. Thank god I attended highschool here. Thank god my classmates are mostly police.

The book, has your email and what might be a password in it.

It has a page ripped out that says "Humana Member" and confirmation numbers.

It has your mother's medical prescription list. 

Based on the medication she's taking: it sounds like she drank heavily. I would suggest she only consume garlic and onion butter with every meal (such as pizza, with a garlic dipping sauce) and drink liquid aspirin by the pint. This should clean out her blatter and reduce all pain. Opiates can easily be replaced with liquid NSAIDS. Liquid NSAIDS, are sort of how and why I have a few scars. I made the mistake of working with fire a month after drinking a quart or two.

However: it also looks like she might die if she quit taking key pills. You know, it's one of those situations where she might need to go to Narcotics Anonymous.

He's non-human & a non-person. So, he really has no name. Short Aryan Semite, brownish hair usually black due to the soot and silt he lives in. He has dark eyes and usually smells like pee. Usually you can find him camping beneath the bridges or in the woods near North High. In the meeting halls: you will usually find him in the corner sucking down all the coffee. He never shares in a meeting and he will usually panic attack if and when you make direct eye contact. I am starting to wonder about his status as a non-human non-person and what traditionally he would be called on a racist level. In today's age: we call those monkeys. When I identified as human, a long time ago, when it was common to kidnap anyone, force them to attend classes with other children, and brainwash them to human identify, long before the racewars between Hanuman and Humanity when Hanuman where only at war with Christianity (mostly Catholicism): I worked as a phone psychic. I took drugs from plants that where illegally imported and not evaluated by the FDA. So, I am often drilled into a parallel dimension that is commonly used by thieves and various forms of what humanity describes as "freaks" or "devils". 

Police should just position themselves outside the Maize Road machine that you insert cellphones into that just shits out cash. Based on how much he has stolen anything sacrelidgeous, black and reflective (such as Dr.A.G., B.O.S. & cellphones) I am sure he would be arrested quickly there. Too: police truly do need to attend meetings with us. We could also use more so silent and somber types. You know, the kind who dont feel "special" or "loved" until they've killed something or someone. Sort of like the guys who have to be drenched in blood to gain a phallic erection and have to be in dire pain to ejaculate. What do they call those? Oh that's right: Sadomasochists.

He was seen at Quik Trip in the Delano with a stolen coffee can from Parklane Alcoholics Anonymous.

Due to the situation, we have decided to relapse and stage a massacre. Said massacre will effect the meeting halls heavily. I am unable to get to my 12 Step Meetings. I go to S.K.A. It's a 12 Step Program for those who have grown addicted to causing the death of other people: and it does count even if they are a non-person or non-human. Which, that reminds me: I have to do my 8th and 9th step on non-mortal persons who commonly get used as a replacement vice or enabler.

Usually the only way I kill people, is simply by tattling to the authorities or causing someone else to have a psychotic episode that results in rape, torture and murder. Me? I do not put my hands on other people or their things. I let other people do that. That's how I stay "perfectly innocent", by reminding authorities that they often enforce policies that keeps me in the company of felons: most of whom are serial killers, drug addicts, drunks, thieves, frauds, religious and social programmers, and other forms of human/sub-human trash. This is why I seldom seek human company.

Where can I drop the book off at?

[explode-this]

how much of what we know about ‘addiction’ has been made up to fit the idea that it is a ‘disease’? What complex functions of human nature are we ignoring to force a person’s behavioral compulsions into a model that has no backing of actual studies because agenda took the helm? I wish more people would read Chaz Bufe’s “AA: Cult or Cure?” and Joe Miller’s “The United States of AA” to get an idea of where a lot of it came from. If I were granted the wish of one Behind the Bastards episode/series it would be not on Bill Wilson but Mrs. Marty Mann (aka the lesbian who took her name and honorific from a marriage of convenience so she could hide behind it/not hurt the “reputation” of AA by being known as a lesbian, while being the most lesbian a lesbian can be, e.g., owning a housing in Cherry Grove on Fire Island). She was a PR wizard who managed to strongarm the AMA into adopting the hypothesis that ‘alcoholism’ could be a disease—once she was able to get even the barest acknowledgement that it could be likened to a disease, the PR cogs were set in motion, and people have been swallowing this idea wholesale ever since. I don’t expect anyone who goes to a 12 step group in a state of utter desperation to know these things or do scads of research before they begin; when a person feels overwhelmed by their problem and needs help, that’s the last thing they’re going to do. But the structure is such that research and free thought are discouraged (or summarily dismissed as “stinking thinking”)—often from an ‘experienced’ sponsor to the newcomer in a power dynamic that could best be described as a ‘cult of two’—and someone can find themselves convinced of something that has no basis in reality, more scared of themselves than they ever were under the influence of whatever they were medicating with, whether it’s alcohol, drugs, food, gambling, shopping, or sex.

If you struggle with substances (a behavioral compulsion with threads of chemical dependence), then you owe it to yourself to read widely. You are not broken or diseased—you are a human being, being human. The severity of your struggles don’t put you in a class above or below all others with their own behavioral issues, and you don’t need to close yourself off from the world at large to find community that understands you. Guidance and fellowship are awesome but you also don’t need to take a single person or group’s word for it when you have the capability to seek and parse other information. I’m not even asking you to take my word for it—I’ve only listed two authors and books but I’ve read more than just those, including Dr. Lance Dodes and Dr. Gabor Mate. I have plenty more on my to read pile. I got into the research after feeling completely overwhelmed by the stifling nature of Al-Anon, which I likened—then kindly—to “emotional kindergarten.” I think there are lots of people in 12 step groups that feel that there’s something more to life than endless meetings and a perpetual recovery with no exit into ordinary life, but are actively discouraged from looking outside of “the rooms” for help. You’re allowed to look beyond the first measure of help. It is not the only way. (I dare say it’s not the way at all, but again, that’s my opinion based on my own research.) if people are trotting out the notion that your only alternatives are “jails, institutions, or death,” but also say “you’re free to leave at any time,” you will get stuck somewhere in the middle, and you deserve more than to be merely held in place for the rest of your life, afraid that thinking for yourself will lead to a downward spiral.

[krazieka2]

Baby Emblem. Three Babies

[youarenotaloneyouareamazing]

BLOG 100 (J) A Flood of Addiction Deaths.

Addiction is a condition, in which a person engages in a harmful behavior, for which the momentary rewarding effects provide such a compelling incentive to repeatedly pursue the behavior, that the consequences are overshadowed, until it’s too late. e.g. the now good feelings, outweighs the possible bad consequences. Most are guilty of living by, this we want what we want, or what makes us feel…

[splickedylit]

@ USAmericans that are following me, if you (like me) get anxious you'll somehow have issues with a mail-in or drop-off ballot: I forgot that in a lot of places (here's a site to check!) early in-person voting is an option, so I figured maybe you did too!

Lines are MUCH shorter than election day,

which means it's quick and you have more time to look things up at the voting booth if necessary,

and you have a LOT more ability to find a time that works for you than if you just vote on Nov. 5th (which I would be have been almost completely unable to go out and vote on).

Early voting y'all it kicks ass. A quick google of "early voting (my city/county" immediately brought up the exact address, days and hours of where it was available. Will definitely patronize the fine folks at my local polling center again in four years assuming that. Things go well. And we still have a democracy in four years. OTL

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[ableism]

My desire to appear mysterious and demure on tumblr.com is so low it is OBSCENE this blog exists purely for me to be authentically psychosexually deranged in the cringiest most vile way possible. I have to come here because I can’t get this mentally ill on any other social media. Tumblr understands that the 12th tradition states anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions ever reminding us to place principles before personalities

[catgirljaneway]

i'm sorry about this one guys

[ricky-mortis]

“You’re a caveman. And I’ve invented fire.”

Close-ups under the cut :)

[thepastneverforgets]

the funniest thing about the bucktommy hate being partially centered around tommy's past and how he isnt good enough for buck for his previous on-screen jerk behavior and instances of mocking bigotry, is that it literally parallels buck still lmao. they both quite literally started out at the 118 as self-centered repressed jerks with frat boy attitudes. it just so happens that all of bucks growth has been on-screen unlike tommys.

[leveragecentral]

The 12-Step Job Leverage (2008-2012)

[lindseymcdonaldseyelashes]

"The 12-Step Job" is wild, because not 30 minutes after barely surviving a car bomb, Eliot looks more shaken by the implication he might not be 100% straight than almost dying